Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line #4)(35)

“I…ohhhh.” Doing as he asked, she worked her hips in a haphazard figure eight, tiny whimpers breaking past her lips to get him even more worked up, if such a thing were possible. “I like it, I like it, I—” She broke off in a moan when Henrik found her G-spot, tickling it with a crooked middle finger. “Oh my God.”

Henrik was fast losing control, his lust reaching epic proportions, spurred on by her uninhibited behavior. He could feel the blood rushing in his veins, the release kindling in his gut. If they didn’t finish soon, he would drag her out of the shower, throw her down on the floor—wet and buck naked—and come inside her from behind. Without a care or a condom. And dammit, she deserved better than that. Deserved better than to be thrust into by the hungry beast he felt himself turning into. Most of all, he only got one chance for a first time with Ailish.

Barely able to speak around the need banked in his throat, Henrik pushed a third thick finger into Ailish and went in for the kill, stroking that spot along her inner wall with rough fingers. “I don’t remember asking you to stop hand-f*cking me, Lish. Get that hand moving so I can come all over those legs again.”

As if his treatment inside her body had paralyzed her limbs, it took Ailish a few beats to begin pumping his flesh again. Ohhh, but when she got going, his orgasm built almost immediately, raking down his spine and clawing its way through his abdomen. “Henrik…I’m going to….”

“Go on.” He licked into her mouth for a wet kiss. “I got you. I always got you.”

Her body stiffened before starting to shake. The hand that wasn’t busy working his climax free slapped at his chest, her nails digging into him as she cried out. When Ailish hit her peak, she opened her eyes, and it was like looking through two windows into paradise. Henrik wasn’t even sure she could see him, even though her attention was locked on him. God, she gave herself over, as though there were nothing in this world to lose, and it was f*cking spectacular. Throw in his name being chanted over and over on her lips like a prayer, and just then, in that shower, Henrik witnessed the sexiest, most breathtaking sight of his lifetime.

Warmth greeted the palm wedged between her legs—Ailish’s climax—sending him catapulting into a deep ravine he never wanted to climb out of. Henrik pressed his face against the wet shower wall and roared as his hot seed decorated Ailish’s shaking legs. “Next time you get all of me,” he groaned. “I don’t like knowing I haven’t let loose inside you.”

Henrik felt her bones beginning to liquefy, so he gritted his teeth and held her up, even as his own release racked his body. They stayed locked together for an unknown amount of time, their breathing mingling with the pelting shower spray.

Ailish’s lips moved on his shoulder as she spoke, her voice sounding throaty from screaming. “Henrik?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think we’re meant to be friends.”

He’d thought his heart was done ricocheting around his chest for the moment, but obviously he’d been wrong. Damn, he fell harder for this girl with every passing second. That was saying something, considering he’d already thrown his sanity overboard just to get close to her. “And that upsets you, baby?”

She gathered the moisture on his shoulder with her lips. “No. I think this is better.” A brief pause. “Don’t you?”

“Hell yes, Ailish. Don’t ask me things like that with doubt in your voice.”

Her uneven nod calmed him. “What do we do now?”

He pulled back to lift her chin. “Now you wait for me here while I make a few calls. Okay?”

There was no hesitation in her agreement. Looking back later, he would kick himself for not finding that odd. He probably should have included a please.





Chapter Ten


Ailish stared at the door that had just closed behind Henrik. He hadn’t shared the identity of who he would be calling. Or what he would say. Trapped between him and the wall of the shower, she’d never trusted anyone more. Then again, she’d been relying on him for pleasure during those stolen moments—and oh boy, he’d delivered. If she allowed herself, she could get lost in the memory of how his fingers had touched her so intimately, the intensity of his breathing. But she couldn’t go there, couldn’t get lost in that winding path. Because Ailish couldn’t shake the sitting duck feeling that made her skin prickle.

Every time she took a step in the direction of trusting Henrik, he shut her out. It reminded her too much of a childhood being shoved out of rooms while the men talked. Being hushed at the dinner table while her father spoke in a low tone into the receiver of his phone. There was an undeniable urge to put her faith in Henrik. How could anyone be that convincing a liar? When they were touching, she couldn’t tell where Henrik ended and she began. Her troubles slipped down some invisible drain and there were only his capable hands…and that mouth. The one that spoke to her the way no one had ever dared.

Now however, sitting alone in the quiet cabin, she could only see the road map that detailed her situation in black and white, with none of the gray areas created by Henrik. Two squiggly red lines extended from the You Are Here mark. One led back to Chicago, and one led to more breathtaking freedom. She’d actually told Henrik she was the Bookie Cookie, a position that made her valuable to the police in so many ways. She had enough information to shut her father’s outfit down cold, and Henrik would need some serious motivation not to hand her over.